The Abyss
by Burman
Summary: Post-Season 3, Pre- Season 4. Clark in that womb thingie at the end of Season 3... Pg-13, jsut to be safe, more likely PG, but better safe then sry. PLZ! R&R!


THE ABYSS  
  
Silence.  
  
Clark Kent woke slowly, almost as if he didn't want to stop sleeping. His lack of clothing was the first thing he noticed, then the colors: the flowing rush of color he had never seen before, swirling and floating and meeting like clouds in some sort of spectacular sunrise or sunset, setting the skies on fire. Puffs of some sort of smoky fluid flowed all around his naked form, which seemed to be entrapped in some sort of... capsule, or, as he began to think about it more, a womb.  
  
Emotions and feelings ran through his body that he hadn't felt before, much less described . It was like some sort high he was on, with a fire running through his veins, and cool winds blowing all around him, making him even more acutely aware of his lack of clothing. Then they came rushing back to him; the images, the of the symbols burned into the barn, the view from his telescope, of the girls lockeroom, viewed from the wall in front of it, the smell of his mother's homemade dinners, of freshly bailed hay, of Chloe's hair, the taste of Lana Lang's lips, of Chloe Sullivan's, the sound of heartbeats and Lana's infectious laugh, Jor-El, his true father, 's voice, the touch of her hands, the pain of his scar, of the kryptonite.  
  
It all came back, interwoven into his surroundings.  
  
"Am I...? Is this...?" Clark said or thought, he couldn't tell which.  
"Krypton? No." The voice he had so hated replied "This is what Krypton was"  
"So it is true, what Dr. Swan said. Krypton is gone."  
"Physically, yes, my son, our home is gone. In its place is this  
paradise I have made for you. All that you could ever want is here,  
with me."  
  
Clark considered fighting back, but he soon remembered the deal he had made  
with his tyrant of a birth father.  
  
"Is Da- Jonathan Kent ok?"  
"He has served his purpose, and for this, his life has been mercifully spared"  
"And everyone else?"  
"This I do not know." Figures of all of his loved ones formed from  
what Clark had decided was space dust of some sort. Lana, Chloe, Pete,  
Jonathan, Martha, and in the distance, a dark and ominous figure  
loomed on the horizon.  
"Who is he?"  
"You know who he is, Kal-El"  
  
"Lex"  
  
His father's silence was all the affirmation he needed. Clark looked all about him.  
  
First, he saw Lana sitting at a café table, a French one (or so he  
assumed from the French flag waving behind her), sipping French  
coffee, an easel rested against the side of her chair, a note pad and  
pencil in front of her, seemingly having a conversation with someone,  
obviously enamored with him, that or the French apparently saw games  
of footsy and fluttering eyelashes as casual conversation. He leaned  
in eyes shut, lips puckered, confirming Clark's worst fears, and her  
form dissipated.  
  
"Who is the man?" Clark asked, jealously, heightened in this world of  
super-emotion, swelling up in his face.  
"She has moved beyond you "Jor-El replied.  
  
"You were not meant to be."  
  
Martha's form knelt beside Jonathan, draped over him sobbing. He had yet to wake, it seemed. An EMT came in with a stretcher, lifting Jonathan up and wheeled quickly him out of the caves, Martha speed walking at his side. He turned the corner and was gone.  
  
"You said Dad was ok!" Clark yelled, a festering rage building up inside of him  
"Jonathan Kent is not your father." Jor-El replied, with a touch of  
sternness in his usually robotic voice. "I am. He served his purpose,  
and as thus, I have sparred his life. He is in a coma."  
  
Clark contained his anger, feeling rather cheated.  
  
The next image helped. Pete Ross was unpacking his things in his new room. He was almost done, and had placed a picture of him, Chloe, and Clark on his nightstand. He sat staring at it for a little while. Clark had his arm draped over Chloe's shoulder, she was trying hard not to blush or in other ways give away her big crush on him. Pete was on the other side of Chloe, who took little notice of him. Pete sat for a little while, staring at the picture. Clark almost could have sworn he saw a tear go down his cheek. After what seemed like an eternity to Clark, Pete got up and turned the picture down on his desk, walking off to his new life, new crushes, new best friends, and new big secrets.  
  
"If he had stayed, he only would have been weighed down further." Jor-  
El tried to console his son. He efforts weren't being very fruitful.  
"I know" Clark said, not knowing what else could be said.  
  
He never should have told Pete.  
  
Chloe wasn't moving. It seemed as if there had been a great explosion or fire. Her dad was nowhere to be found. All of the clothes had been burned off her body, which was streaked with burn marks. All of her hair had been burned off as well. She was face down, 20 feet from what seemed like ground zero, near a tree. Clark didn't need his x-ray vision to see that her lower spinal chord had been broken.  
  
"Will she be alright?"  
"This I do not know"  
Uncertainty settled uncomfortably into Clark Kent  
  
The clouds, or smoke, or dust or whatever around him suddenly grew dark, and blackness streaked around him. Clark saw what seemed like Lex's office at Luthor Mansion and closed his eyes. This image didn't go away.  
  
"I don't wish to see this" Clark said or thought, almost pleadingly.  
  
Lex was sprawled out on the floor, shattered glass all around him. Without willing so, Clark suddenly saw that his heart was barely beating.  
  
"He will die"  
"No, please, don't kill him" Clark said, feeling his emotions  
towards Lex changing.  
"Let him live. Don't. Kill. Him. He was my friend once, and it  
is, in part, because of him that I am here with you. Spare his  
life for that."  
  
"As you wish, my son. He shall live, but know that he is a  
terrible disease upon the earth where you were raised. He shall  
cause havoc and war and famine. He will rule with an iron fist  
and will bring pain and sorrow to all that he encounters."  
  
"No, Lex would never do that. He isn't his father"  
  
Jor-El chose to be silent.  
  
The clouds dissipated one last time, and as they did, Clark felt  
as if he was losing some part of him, deep down inside, regret  
and second-guessing crept into him.  
  
"This is your past Kal-El, my son, the last son of Krypton,  
You're your future"  
  
"I know dad, I know" He said, as he suddenly felt very relaxed,  
very tired by all of this. Infact, he suddenly felt downright  
sleepy.  
  
"Sleep, Kal-El, my son, sleep."  
  
And, just like that, almost as if on command, or by gentle  
force, Kal-El drifted off to sleep, the sunset of color drifting  
dreamily past him. 


End file.
